


Mars is a Harsh Mistress

by russetmantle



Category: Buzzfeed The Try Guys (Web Series)
Genre: #TryGuysEatSandwiches, Mars, Sandwiches, trigger warning: suicidal thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-27
Updated: 2019-02-27
Packaged: 2019-11-06 15:58:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17942768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/russetmantle/pseuds/russetmantle
Summary: Following a tragic accident which takes the lives of most of the crew, the only survivors of the mission to Mars are the mission commander and the Try Guys. Can they repair their spacecraft in time to meet their launch deadline and get back to Earth? Sandwiches occur.





	Mars is a Harsh Mistress

**Author's Note:**

> Zach gets to be the hero for a change. And some long overdue payback on Eugene.

“Explain it to me one more time, Ned”, urged Keith. Sometimes he felt he could just about grasp the concept, but it always seemed slightly out of reach.

“It’s really pretty simple,” replied Ned, as he gingerly maneuvered his arms inside his Z-2 spacesuit to try once again, finally, to fit the wrench to the hatch.

“We need to use the Hohmann transfer orbit to get back to Earth, because that’s the most fuel-efficient way. That means we need to transfer to a lower elliptical orbit coinciding with our current higher one, and then we use that elliptical orbit to drop down into an even lower orbit to get us back on track for Earth. It’s just the reverse of the process that got us here. You see…”

Keith drifted off as Ned started talking algebra, which was always the part that left his brain behind. Not for the first time, he felt in awe of his friend’s intellect, and just very glad that he was there. The Try Guys were only supposed to have been guest vloggers on this mission to Mars, but the sudden death of three of the professional technicians in the team – leaving only one, Dr. Miller, remaining – had meant Ned having to help out with the scientific technicalities of the project, and without him, everyone would have been in real trouble, especially now, so close to the planned return launch to Earth. Keith sensed the math part was over and tuned back in to what Ned was saying.

“…but the important thing is that if the Doc and I can’t fix the two faulty units by tomorrow, we won’t be able to launch because we’ll have missed this transfer window and we’ll have to wait for the next one, meaning…” 

Ned looked at him, and Keith saw he didn’t want to say it out loud.

“…meaning we’ll be stuck here for another eighteen months, I get it, yeah,” he finished, a somber expression furrowing his features. “I mean, don’t get me wrong – it’s been an amazing adventure and all, but we’ve been here for that long already and the flight back is going to be another nine damn months, and…” he trailed off.

Keith was worried; it was an obvious – unspoken – truth that although they had managed to survive here for the two weeks since most of the command team had been killed in the freak baguette incident, it would be a different matter entirely lasting another eighteen long months in this strange ice-dusty place, where the orange haze in the atmosphere seemed to set every minute of every day permanently to sunset mode. It did something to your head. 

“…and the fried chicken on Mars just ain’t the same as back home, right Keith?” Ned chuckled.

Keith’s face broke into a smile, a genuine one. Ned could always find something to say to break the tension.

“Ain’t that the truth?”

“Finally!” exclaimed Ned, as he managed to prize open the fuel cell unit and set to work.

 

Back in the main biodome, Eugene and Zach were packing up everything that would be going back to Earth, getting ready for the next day’s launch. The spacecraft already contained enough food and water for the return journey, but there was plenty left to put in order before they could leave. Scientific equipment and personal items, mostly, all tightly packed, weighed and labelled. Eugene groaned.

“How many damn board games does Ned need?” he grumbled, throwing yet another brightly-illustrated box into yet another crate. “That’s three crates full of the things now and I’m sure he didn’t have that many when we left Earth.” 

Zach saw Eugene wince as he stood up again; he had suffered a serious shoulder injury when the baguette tragedy had happened, and although he tried to hide it, it was obvious that it was still affecting him. He seemed to get tired much faster than usual, too, and needed to rest more often. How much of it was due to the physical pain, and how much to the emotional trauma of seeing his lunch companions die so horribly in front of him? Zach couldn’t be sure. He pretended he hadn’t noticed.

“Well, to be fair, we have played them a lot,” he offered. “It’s not as if there’s much else to do out here. I mean, the first few times you walk on the surface of Mars, it’s kinda mind-blowing, right? But after a while it all looks the same, right?”

“I guess.”

“And when the dust storms move in…”

“Yeah, that shit is pretty serious, actually. I’ve never seen anything like that on Earth. How long did the last one go on for?”

“I think it was about two weeks. Wait – are you OK?”

Zach rushed forwards to catch Eugene as he collapsed, guiding him to the floor and placing a nearby gelpack under his head. Goddammit, why did Eugene have to push himself so hard? He should have been resting in his quarters, but he’d insisted on helping. In fact, Zach couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen Eugene eat. He felt a rush of anger. How dare he? They were just hours away from the most important try they would ever attempt: their best chance (and, though the thought of it made him shudder – maybe their _only_ chance) to get back home. And here was Eugene, putting everything at risk by driving himself so hard he was in danger of becoming nothing but a liability. He should wake Eugene up and give him a piece of his mind.

He grabbed his water cup and threw the contents over Eugene’s face.

“What the hell, man?” gasped Eugene.

Immediately Zach felt a pang of contrition. Eugene was only trying his best to be ready, just like everyone else. 

“Are you OK, Eugene? How are you feeling?”

Zach searched Eugene’s eyes eagerly as he waited for a response. A parade of conflicting emotions seemed to pass through them before Eugene finally answered, with startling ferocity:

“I’m hungry. Real hungry, Zach. Please don’t ask me why. I need panini right now.”

Zach recoiled in surprise, but as he locked eyes with Eugene, he suddenly felt a dagger of pure hunger slicing down his own chest and into his abdomen. He thought for a moment, then scurried to the galley area. After a short while, he returned, hands behind his back, and dropped to his knees beside Eugene.

“Well, the bad news is that there are no panini left.”

A wry smile spread over Eugene’s face. Zach grinned and arched an eyebrow.

“But I do got bagels!” he clicked his fingers triumphantly, a playful expression on his face, holding his prize aloft. Eugene obviously couldn’t help himself. He moved to grab the bagel from his younger friend’s hand, but Zach was too fast for him. With shocking speed and surprising force, Zach placed his palm on Eugene’s chest and forced him onto his back again, snatching the bagel out of the way.

“No. Not this time, Eugene. This time we’re going to do it my way.”

“Dammit Zach!” Eugene tried to sit up again, but he wasn’t at full strength, and Zach knew it. He climbed onto Eugene, using his right hand to hold Eugene’s left wrist to the floor, and his left forearm to pin his other arm just under the shoulder. Eugene tried to snap his head up and to the right to take a bite of the bagel, but the pain in his shoulder bolted through him and he dropped back, defeated. Zach tightened his grip and brought his face up level with his friend’s.

“You’ve given me shit for years, Eugene. You talk so tough, but I know what you’re really like. This time, you’re going to eat the bagel the way _I_ want you to. You’re going to savor that filling the way _I_ tell you to. Here’s what’s going to happen. You take one bite – one small bite – and then you thank me for it. If I think you sound sincere enough, then I might let you have a second bite. Maybe a third. Am I clear?”

Eugene looked astonished, but he was probably too hungry to argue, Zach thought.

“Crystal clear,” he growled.

“Eat, then. But slowly.”

Eugene took a small bite of the bagel, looking Zach in the eyes with something like disgust as he did so. He was supposed to stop, but it amused Zach to see that he couldn’t…he was just so damn hungry. He took another bite, then another, then…

SLAP!

Eugene stared at Zach in shock. 

“Bad kitty,” crowed Zach in a sing-song, teasing voice. And then his tone turned grave. “We had an agreement. I expect you to honor it.”

Having placed the bagel on the floor, Zach began to trace the tip of his left forefinger down over Eugene’s lips, then lightly dragged his fingernail over his friend’s chin and continued, stopping at his Adam’s apple, where he applied a little more force. His heart skipped a beat as he noted, with thrilled satisfaction, a slight sliver of fear cut through Eugene’s eyes. 

“Thank you. May I have another bite?”

Zach’s eyes glistened with years of pent-up frustration. He picked up the bagel and placed it at Eugene’s lips.

“Of course. Go on. Slowly.”

“Thank you.”

“And another.”

“Thank you.”

“Another.”

Zach smirked. The fact was that he knew Eugene better than most. What was the old saying? Butch in the streets…

 

“That’s it.”

Ned finished the long process of tightening the fittings on the hatch and let out a sigh of relief. He was exhausted. It had been nearly six hours since they had left the biodome, and he and Keith had been working flat out since then. During the last thirty minutes, conditions had deteriorated as a dust storm had begun to set in. As the two of them took a moment to compose themselves, the unmistakable figure of Dr. Miller appeared through the gloom.

“I’ve finished my repairs. Do you need any help?”

“Nope, just finished.” Ned showed her the readings he’d taken to record that the fuel cells were now functioning normally.

“Great job, boys. Let me just double-check the hatch.”

As she ran her checks, Ned felt hopeful. Tired as he was, for the first time in weeks he had a real sense that everything would turn out OK. He knew how much everyone was counting on him, how much faith they had in him, and sometimes the pressure of it was all just too much. To be that person everyone is relying on to meet their responsibilities no matter what, to be the one everyone expects to be level-headed and trustworthy…sometimes it was all he could do not to simply drop to the floor and curl up, shutting everyone and everything out. But he couldn’t afford that kind of self-indulgence, especially not now.

Dr. Miller seemed satisfied with the hatch. She turned to address the others.

“Right, so the good news is that everything is functioning as it should now. The bad news is that once this dust storm gets going properly, it’s going to be too dangerous for us to launch. We need to go back to the biodome and get Eugene and Zach _now_. We probably have about an hour, if we’re to make it at all.”

Ned looked at Keith, stunned; Keith’s expression mirrored his own.

As they made their way back to the biodome, Ned could feel the adrenaline coursing through his body. How quickly could they turn this around? If they left non-essential crates behind, they could probably cut the loading time by half, but it would still be tight. As they reached the entrance, he was ready to spring into action as soon as he set foot inside.

The three of them rushed in and began to shout for the others. Ned rounded a corner and found a distressed-looking Zach.

“What is it, Zach?”

“Zach! We have to go – our deadline just got moved”, yelled Keith, “Get Eugene, let’s load up, and let’s get outta here!”

Zach was staring at Keith in horror.

“Eugene’s gone!” he sobbed, “and it’s all my fault!”

Ned’s insides lurched; he felt sick.

“What do you mean, gone?”

“He went outside! I mean, I assume he did. He made me a samsaek sandwich and it was just so filling I kinda…dozed off afterwards, and when I woke up he was gone, and one of the Z-2s is missing! I shoulda…I guess I shoulda let him have the whole bagel…” He seemed lost in his own private turmoil.

Ned and Keith looked at each other in confusion. Keith silently mouthed _the whole bagel?_

Ned swallowed.

“No, no I don’t think this is your fault. There must be something else…”

“Why would he do this?” shouted Keith. “Does he have a death wish? It’s hell out there!”

Ned raced over to check the Z-2 suits, and – sure enough – one was missing.

That’s when he saw it. He bent down to the pile of crumbs on the floor next to the suit storage unit and picked it up.

“It wasn’t your fault, Zach,” he said, gently. “It was this…”

He showed the others what he had in his hand: the flaking, slightly stale end of a baguette.

The three of them stared at the foul hunk of crust, then at each other. Zach was first to snap out of his reverie, striding with purpose towards the suit storage unit and starting to climb into one of the Z-2s.

“Zach! What are you doing?” called Keith, a note of alarm in his voice.

“I’m going to find him and bring him directly to the ship. Wait for us if you can, but don’t miss the transfer window. I’ve been here over a year and a half and I know how most of the basic instruments work. I can survive longer here if I have to, long enough to wait for a relief ship.”

Ned didn’t know what to do, but his first instinct was to stop Zach from going out on his own.

“No, Zach – we need your help here, to load the crates…”

He saw steel in his small friend’s eyes.

“You know I’m not strong enough to carry the crates.”

Ned felt desperate. 

“But look…the gravity here is only about a third what it is on Earth, so once you get away from the artificially enhanced gravity of the biodome, the crates will only feel a third as heavy…” he knew his babbling sounded pathetic. 

Time slowed to a crawl between them.

“There ain’t no such thing as a free sandwich,” Zach said, and was gone.

 

It had been so much harder than he’d thought. From the first day he’d arrived on this wretched hellhole of a planet, he’d ached for the comforts of Earth: the softness of his beloved dogs’ fur; the mind-numbing euphoria of a whole bottle of cheap whiskey; the masochistic rush of 101 tongue-scalding soup dumplings.

Eugene cursed as he struggled through the roiling dust. His body was broken and his mind was a mess. All he knew for sure was that he never wanted to see another goddamn baguette for as long as he lived, and did he really care how long that was, anymore?

He needed to get away. Just get away, that’s all. He needed to escape, to change, to not be the _hyeong_ any longer. To leave the pain behind. To run, to leave, to…fade. Hell, why not just say it?

To die.

He felt faint and stumbled, falling gently to the ground. In his fevered, heightened state, he became aware of the temperature dropping sharply, and suddenly, floating above him was a _gwisin_ , reaching out, and he instinctively knew he was close to death. He felt a sudden stab of joy, and laughed as he lost consciousness, his last thought only of sweet, blissful relief.

 

The dust was so thick in the atmosphere now that Dr. Miller could barely see ten meters in front of her face. The loading was done, and she’d instructed Ned to conduct a few basic standby procedures, but really that had just been to give him something to do, to take his mind off the situation. Keith was already strapped into his seat and ready to go, but it was looking more and more likely that they would be going nowhere today. 

And then, from the whirling clouds of dust, she saw them emerge. Zach was staggering along, carrying Eugene on his back and shoulders in awkward fashion, the Z-2 suits being so large and cumbersome that he had to stop and half-bounce Eugene along the ground as he went. Overjoyed, she bounded forwards to meet them and helped Zach maneuver Eugene into the spacecraft. 

She closed the outer hatch and engaged the inner locking systems, then a relieved smile crept over her face as she changed into her flightsuit. She strapped herself into the command seat and began to run through the safety checklist with Ned.

Zach climbed out of his Z-2 and pulled on his flightsuit, helping a drowsy Eugene to do the same before buckling him into his seat. As Zach took his own seat next to him, Eugene turned his head lethargically towards him. A weak but heartfelt smile.

“I thought I was dying.”

“We wouldn’t have left you, Eugene,” said Zach, simply. “You know that, right?” 

Eugene nodded, and let his eyes close again. 

Dr. Miller motioned to Ned, instructing him to prepare for launch.

“OK, my green-eyed friend, start her up. In 3-2-1…ignition.” The rockets burst into life, whipping up more dust from the surface of the planet, and slowly the spacecraft floated into the air, higher and still higher into the russet sky, finally pushing through the atmosphere and settling into its orbit. 

The principal task complete, Ned relaxed into his seat. He looked surprised and delighted in equal measure.

“I _do_ have green eyes,” he smiled. Keith and Zach scoffed.

“Eugene…do you know how much the three of us care about you?” 

For a few seconds, Eugene seemed to struggle to find his voice.

“I do now,” he whispered.


End file.
